


Delicate Jailer

by DemiurgicDabbling



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 00:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiurgicDabbling/pseuds/DemiurgicDabbling
Summary: You and your shadow have so much in common. You've known it your whole life.





	Delicate Jailer

It’s presence never left you. Perhaps it was always with you, from the moment you stepped foot out into the snow. Following dutifully, your loving shadow.

“It’s getting colder.”

You tell it you don’t care.

When it falls quiet, it’s absence disturbs you. It gets colder, but you press on. What else is there to do, besides keep moving? It grows hands, and it holds yours. It’s touch is barely there, like if you walk too quickly, it’ll fall away.

“Where are you going?”

You tell it you don’t care.

“Would you like to know?”

You still don’t care.

It falls silent once more. You have nothing to say to fill the silence, so your shoes start talking instead. Telling you how much you weigh, how they won’t be around forever to carry you, and you wish they’d tell you that they’re proud of you.

“I’m proud of you.” Says your shadow, as it grows teeth. “Your soles don’t care for you. You just want to know you’re good.”

You tell it that’s true. You let your shadow eat your shoes.

Your nails aren’t fancy, either. They were, once. But now they’re dull. They can’t do anything anymore, not like they used to. They tell you you’re a terrible person, with no passions and so many missed opportunities. You wasted your time.

Your shadow sneers with its new lips. “You’re just tired. So, so tired.”

You tell it that’s true. You let your shadow chew your nails, and silence them for good.

Your feet are sore, you’ve carried yourself far. But you can’t rest long, there are only so many hours in the day. Your watch clicks it’s tongue and shakes it’s head at you. Lazy, lazy, lazy. Always wanting to rest, even though you’ve hardly done anything. You should listen to your shoes, they’d know better than you.

You tell it they’d tell them the exact same thing. Your shadow grows eyes and glares down, thousands of eyes, and a thousand glares. That shuts it up quick.  
“Time keeps moving, this isn’t their time anymore. How would they know?”

They wouldn’t, you tell it, they wouldn’t know. Your shadow kisses you and eats your watch. You still hear it tick from down deep in its belly. You sit down and rest.

And you never move again. Your shadow keeps you company. It’s claws drag over your eyes, but they feel fine. You don’t want to see anyways.

“I’m so hungry.”

You ask it what it wants.

“You’re the only thing left.”

Will it hurt?

“Only for a little.”

Will I die?

“Yes, but you’ll come back. Death is a lot like sleep. And you’ve always waken up, haven’t you?”

Yes, though sometimes you wish you hadn’t. 

“See? Don’t worry, my love. Death can be your escape, and you’ll come back as me.”

Well you take care of us?

“No, my dear.”

The way it says your name is so beautiful.

“We will take care of us.”


End file.
